The Non Bender
by Jackie Robinson
Summary: "We must let the Ishvalans sleep for they are a pride of lions, if they are awoken from their slumber they shall devour the world"-General Sozin. This is the story of this this seemingly fantastic prophecy came true. Warning: Gender Swap AU Gender Role Reversal. Also I do no own Korra but she was not on the AVTLA character list and I wanted to use her.
1. Prologue: The Gathering Storm

**Disclaimers: Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, Avatar the Last Airbender, or Legend of Korra properties and the only characters that I have any say in the usage of are the few OCs included in the story. Please support each of the two products official releases.**

"Hi": Speaking

'Hi': Thinking

**"Hi": Yelling/Intro**

_"Hi": Flashback/ Singing_

_Gender Swap Names  
Aang: Amora  
Sokka: Sokah  
Katara: Kotaro  
Korra: Kor  
Edward: Emilie  
Alphonse: Alexandra  
Winry: Wilhelm  
Trisha: Tristan  
Zuko: Zuna  
Azula: Ahon  
Toph: Torren  
Roy M: Rosalie Mustang  
Riza H: Richard Hawkey  
Maes H. Maxi Hughes  
King Bradley: Koila Barbosa  
Ozai: Onon_

Prologue

It was a dark stormy summer evening in Central City. The type of evening one might see only in the opening to a sort of Gothic horror novel. With strong winds whaling powerful gusts across the whole city, causing massive swells in the city's many streets and back alleys. Blowing over trash cans, tearing the canopy roofs from the shops of street vendors, breaking off branches from trees, and abusing those few Amerstrians who were unfortunate enough to find themselves in the street at this time. Causing many to hurry on their way home, while those few homeless individuals who lay huddled in the streets could only pull their thin clothes tighter to protect themselves.

However, perhaps one of the most unfortunate and exploited individuals within the whole city was not the people on the street. But rather one who was residing in the great castle, dubbed the "Divine Palace" by its architect and residents, in a bedroom that was as luxurious as it was wide and it was extremely wide. It was in this gilded cage that a frail, old woman lay limp on her bed, the darkness of the room making it so that if it weren't for her ragged breath no one would have noticed that she was there, let alone still alive. This woman was Avatar Amora, one of the most powerful women in the world, and she was dying.

As she lay in bed with her eyes focused on the ceiling above her, her chest growing heavier with every single passing breath, Amora couldn't help but think of all that had preceded her. Everything from her earliest childhood moments, to when she had first learned of her ability to air bend, to learn that she was the Avatar and being taken in by the acolytes of the Eastern Air Temple, to her first missions as Avatar. Every major decision she'd made, accomplishment she'd achieved, and important relationship she had begun playing before her eyes. Causing a weak smile to temporarily cross her face, after all she'd managed to achieve more on her own in the entirety of her life than the Amestrian government she was residing with had in the same period.

However, she soon found herself beginning to consider something else, all that she had failed to do. Her failure to return to Xing, her failure to see her parents once more before their deaths, her failure to guarantee a future of peace beyond her death, her failure to alleviate the centuries old tension in the West, or end the growing Imperialism of her homeland in the East. A list of failures which, although a good deal shorter than her successes, left the world and peoples she had so faithfully served with an uncertain future that would have been faced by the next Avatar and his or her generation. A future that seemed to grow closer with each breath she took.

"Barbosa" she cried out, her voice not going above a light whisper and causing her to repeat the name again in a slightly louder voice. Convinced that if she could only raise her voice a little louder and get the woman's attention he would come, see the state she was in, and would most certainly contact the proper medical authorities.

"Barbosa"

Unfortunately for the elderly Avatar her cries were more audible than she could possibly imagine and the woman was closer than she thought and ultimately failed to realize for a reason that Amora was unwilling to factor in. Intentional malice.

"Dammit! How is she still alive" a voice muttered behind Barbosa, causing her to raise her head and glance over her shoulder. The woman behind her had light skin, long black hair, and wore a military outfit that was nearly identical to her own, with the exception as to the amount of metal that adorned her chest.

"Calm down Onon" she stated just as another round of cries came from the elderly woman's room, prompting Barbosa to once again turn towards the room and examine the other end of the hallway, making sure that no one was coming. The two women had been planning their current act of murder for many weeks, convincing first each other and then a significant number of Amestrian nobles as to the legitimacy of their plan. After all it was no secret that the Avatar's reputation with the people was strictly divided, with her proving to be significantly more popular amongst the lower classes of society than the upper ones. With the only known exception being Amestris, or at least that was how it seemed until Barbosa had begun sniffing around a few months ago.

"She'll succumb soon enough".

"What if she doesn't Barbosa? What if she or one of her predecessors realize what's really going on, and she enters the Avatar state?-" Onon began, the second suggestion earning her a condescending chuckle from Barbosa.

"Why Onon, I had no idea you were superstitious"

"I'm not Barbosa, it's just that unlike you I'm concerned about our apparent lack of progress and its chances of triggering her power" Onon countered, prompting Barbosa to straighten up and place her hand under her chin.

"Well it is true that the power that Amora possesses is great however," Barbosa began, her tone as cold as the wind outside the palace they stood in. Pausing briefly to listen to Amora's labored, uneven breathing before she added.

"Even her powers in all their greatness cannot protect her from death".

"So how long do we wait?" Onon asked as she leaned against the wall, attempting to relax.

"Not for much longer" Barbosa answered, causing Onon to cast her an unimpressed look.

"Listen, do you hear that?". For a second Onon didn't get what her partner in crime was implying, taking the statement as another example of her friend rewording a clear answer into a question the other conversing party. But then she did notice something, the silence.

"No, I don't" she answered as a smile crossed his lips.

"Exactly, follow me" with that the two of them silently entered the room of the woman they were conspiring to kill, finding it to be just as it was when they had witnessed the old woman retire to bed hours earlier. Finding her lying unloving in the large bed that had been built to accommodate her. While Onon was content enough to simply look at their success from the door to the room, Barbosa was not as confident. Instead, electing to walk closer to the immobile woman to allow for a more personal viewing.

"Look at you old woman, such a great now lying in state, you had so many chances to become part of the future, now neither your great knowledge nor your 'spirit friends' can save you now" Barbosa gloated, taking especial pleasure when uttering the colloquialism she'd come to use to describe the many predecessors Amora claimed the ability to speak to when in meditation.

"Such a waste of talent and wisdom, if only you'd possessed the pragmatism to know where your interests truly should have lay". As if she'd just heard the magic word of some sort Amora's eyes proceeded to suddenly burst open, revealing a pair of bloodshot eyes with pinpoint pupils and cause Barbosa to instinctively take a step backwards.

"What is it?" Onon thundered from across the room.

"Barbosa….protect….successor" the woman croaked out, causing Barbosa to recompose herself before look to Onon, first signalling her to come closer, and then pointing to her own ear as she moved to stand beside Amora.

"What was that again sir?" Barbosa asked, prompting Amora to feebly raise her hand towards Barbosa and answer with.

"My….successor"

"Did you hear that Onon?" Barbosa asked, as a smile crossed her lips.

"Indeed I did sir, the Avatar just appointed you as his successor" Onon answered, as she observed a painful look of realization cross Amora's face. As if in her final moments she realized that the friends she thought she was looking for, were actually the conspirators who were the source of her suffering. A realization made too late as the poor woman's arm went lip and fell to her side as her reathing began to slow once again.

"Call the doctor, we don't want our actions to appear suspicious" Barbosa stated a statement which earned her a firm nod from Onon, before the woman turned and ran to the door. Making it so that it was Barbosa who stood above Amora, watching the woman who had stood as the guardian of the peace and just in the world for over 8 decades languished on in defiance for a few seconds before breathing last. The new ruler of Amestris was entirely unaware as to the shock waves that she and her fellow conspirator had just set in motion, or the bloody consequences of their actions that would haunt not just their nation, but the whole world, for decades to come.


	2. Ishval, the Powder Keg of the West

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Fullmetal Alchemist, Avatar the Last Airbender, or Legend of Korra series. Please support the original creators. **

"Hey"=Speaking

'Hey'= Thinking

**"Hey"=Yelling**

_"Hey"=Flashback/ Speaking in a different language_

Author's Note: Hello everybody sorry for the delay. I just wanted to let you all know that I intend to publish at least one chapter every month from now on, and trust the chapters will soon be getting longer. I hope that by doing this I can prevent the story line of the fic from getting all messed up due to rushed updates.

Thank you for electing to read this newest chapter and I hope you all enjoy.

Sincerely,

JackieRobinson

Chapter 1

Quote: "I find it to be imperative that, not only in the name of national but global security, the Ishvalan people are given a single unitary state in good faith. Lest they gather together their previously divided frustrations and elect to carve one out of the flesh of the empires around them"

-Unknown Foreign Advisor from the United Republic of Nations

There are many ways that many a foreigner has described the many miles that lay within the great expanse of Ishval. The land of 10,000 suns, the final gathering place of the spirits, the last Amestrian Bastion of superstition, the home of a people split amongst three countries, or Hell. All have been used, and most are valid, but one must always be careful to not focus so heavily on describing the land that they forget to speak of the Ishvalan people themselves. Their culture or their history which places them on the list of the most abused people in the long history of the world.

To better understand the history of this secluded people one must not simply go back to the Elemental Age, from the beginning of the 12th to the latter third of the 18th century, but past it to the Post-Classical Age from the 9th to 11th centuries. Arriving in the latter half of what many modern historians call the Classical Age, roughly around the 7th century, to see the end of what was the Ishvalan Golden Era. But, most importantly, to see the last time the Ishvalans were given the luxury of having their own independent country. Before they were first conquered and then divided by their neighbors.

It's only with the knowledge that one can first be impressed by the Ishvalan ability to preserve their culture for so long, but also understand their reluctance to accommodate foreigners. Even when doing so resulted in what many of their neighbors would call economic stagnation, but what the Ishvalans' called tradition. Understandinf how close they were to the homeland they'd been raised to cherish, and the independence that they had been taught from a young age to crave.

By stark contrast to the barren landscape of Ishaval the town of Resemble is beautiful, especially when the entirety of the town is enveloped by the beautiful gold rays of the afternoon sun. Creating a picturesque landscape that would prove to be any artist's dream to paint, any photographers dream background for a picture, and gave the city's native inhabitants a lovely atmosphere to raise their families in.

However, like so many things in life this picturesque beauty came at a price, that being that while the afternoon rays of the sun were breathtaking to witness they were by not always pleasant to endure. A fact that made the current experience of the small trio slowly walking down one of the many unpaved roads that crossed the town, incredibly undesirable. But also made their ability to endure the powerful combination of heat and sun all the more impressive.

"Dad, I'm tired" a faint voice stated causing the man in question, a young Ishvalan named Seneka, to look down to his left.

"I know Sokah, the farm we saw the poster for should only be alittle bit further, when we get there I promise that we will take a break" Seneka answered earning a nod from the girl before he returned her gaze to the earth in front of her. Allowing her father to let out a sigh before he took the opportunity to reshoulder his son, prompting him to stir slightly before tightening his grip on Seneka's neck and nuzzling his head into his back. All while his other son Kor continued to walk on his right silently.

The four of them had been walking for well over an hour now, or at least it felt like over an hour to Seneka, their now weary legs repeating the simple action of putting one foot in front of the other as they went. More and more blisters beginning to form on their feet with each agonizing step. But what else were they to do? They hadn't had enough money to either purchase a ticket for the train that came through the town's tiny station or to pay a local to take them into town.

Luckily Seneka had been able to spot a small poster that advertised work on one of the many farms in the area, but that had still left them with little choice but to travel the remaining distance by foot on the side of the road. With the few Resembol natives that they passed either ignoring their presence or actively trying to go around them, something that that Seneka could tell grabbed then attention of his daughter. Inspite of her best attempts to show otherwise.

It was obvious to almost anyone who glanced upon the quartet as they walked by that they were not entirely native to the town or the country side that surrounded it. Firstly, there was their clothing that was lighter in color, more extensive in design, and made from corser wool than anything produced or bought by the populace of Resembol. Their tough clothing obviously being designed to provide those who wore it protection from the sun in a drier, more hostile climate. Second was the way they spoke the language, for while it was the same as that of their fellow countrymen it had an accent to it that was most commonly attributed to the people of Ishval due to them not having abandoned their native tongue.

But the final reason sadly had to do with the way that the quartet looked, their dark brown skin and varying hair color. As Seneka sported the common white hair of his people and his children sported dark black hair, one of the few legacies of their mother. A physical feature that made them stand out from the other refugees that had boarded their train out of Ishval, even if the Amestrian guards sent to escort them hadn't acknowledged it.

"Dad, can I please have some water?" Sokah asked, causing Seneka to first release Kor's hand, attaching his right hand to his son's side, and using his left to loosen the small skin pouch from his side and hand it to his daughter. Who dutifully took it and shook it around to hear the sloshing of the precious liquid inside it before she uncorked and took a couple of gulps, before resealing it.

"Dad, do you want me hold onto this?"

"Sure, thank you Sokah" Seneka answered, barely able to hold the sigh that lay behind his lips as he watched Sokah place the pouch in her small pack. Luckily the small group was not forced to endure the either the heat or the displeasure of walking much longer, as within fifthen minutes the quartet found themselves slowly making their way up the small path that led to the house.

The house was simple looking in not only its design but also the color placed upon it. As while the house was indeed two stories it was rather thin in design, its notable height making up for its lack of width, with several small windows on both floors. The whole strucutre, including the tiny porche and steps that led up to the house, being covered with what looked to be a fairly new coat of white paint.

"Kotaro" Hakoda softly whispered as he gently shook his son, causing him to let out a tired yawn before raising his head.

"It's time to wake up"

"Okay papa" he quietly answered as he proceeded to release Seneka's neck before he gently lowered his son to the ground and took the opportunity to finally remove the two packs that were on his back. Adjusting his own pack and removing his son's before handing it to him, before he proceeded to place it on him own back and let out another yawn. Taking the opportunity to rub his eyes, while Kor took the opportunity to move hair out of his brother's eyes. As Seneka walked across the porch and proceeded to knock on the door.

"Coming" a voice called from the inside of the as the faint sound of footsteps could be heard crossing the wood floor of the house's from room, followed by the unlocking of the front door, the twisting of the door knob, and the opening of the door. Revealing a man with blond hair and eyes as well as light skin wearing a brown jacket, white shirt, and what looked to be olive green pants under a white apron.

"Hello sir, my name is Seneka and I couldn't help but notice a small notice for help that was posted on the news board down at the train station" Seneka began, pausing as he felt Kor move behind his right leg.

"I was wondering if you or your wife were still looking for help"

"Well yes we are but-" the man began before full catching sight, or possibly the smell, of Seneka's current state and opening the door further and stating.

"Please do come in, you must be close to dying of heat stroke in today's weather" as he opened the door and gestured for Seneka to come in.

"Oh please sir, there's no ne-"

"I insist, it would be very unkind to turn away a guest in need" the man stated, causing Seneka to first look down at his children before stepping into the house and hearing the door close behind him. An action that earned a tug on his pants, causing him to look down and see Kor gesturing faintly. Prompting him to kneel down to his son's level.

"What is it Kor?"

"Papa, this is a really beautiful house are you sure we should be here?" his son asked, glancing at his arms as he did so and earning a slightly saddened sigh from Seneka.

"If the nice man says so then yes, but I'm sure he would really appreciate it if you told him that" Seneka answered, earning a nod from Kor.

"So, what was it you were saying my good man?" the man asked, causing Seneka to return his attention not only back to possibly his future imployer, but also to the business at had.

"I was wondering if you and your wife were still looking for someone to help with the small end of labour here?" Seneka asked, earning a thoughtful look from the man.

"Yes we are but my wife..." he once again began, pausing briefly.

"What about your wife?"

"She told me she was primarily interested in a female labourer for the seasonal work" the man answered, causing a sinking feeling to arise in Seneka's gut.

"There's no need to worry that I'm weak, I grew up on small farm by an oasis so hard work is nothing new to me" Seneka stated in his calmest tone, not wanting the man to realize that he and his children truly had no other options. Being stranded in a strange, all be it not foreign, land with next to no money, no connections, and no way to make it to their ultimate destination left them with few option of how to make it out of Resembol on their own.

"Besides if the work is only seasonal the it won't be that much of a problem, I only need enough money for the train to Central City and neither you or your wife will ever see me again" Seneka added, hoping that his promise of only needing temporary employment might sweeten the deal. After all wouldn't a seasonal labourer be inconvenient after they'd finieshed doing their seasonal work?

"Well that is true, however-" the man began, only to be interupted by a faint tug on his left pant leg to find himself staring into a pair of borderline teary eyes.

"P-please sir my daddy's a good worker, honest, if he says he'll work hard and be out of your hair when he's done then he will I promise" Kotaro stated in a manner that caused the man to suddenly lean back.

"I'm sorry sir, you know how boys can be when they get-" Seneka began only to fall silent when the man raised his hand.

"My wife should be returning home tomorrow, you can make your case to her she gets here" he answerered before adding.

"Unfortunately we have no extra rooms, I can prepare a place for you in the storage house until then".

"T-thank you sir" Seneka stated before suddenly rising and bowing as deeply as he could. With the action being replicated by all three of his children while Kor added.

"You have a beautiful house" earning a smile on the man's face.

* * *

Sure enough the next day, in the late morning the lady of the house did indeed return, revealing herself to be Vera Hohenheim. Well known private alchemist, respected researcher, and one of the most vocal opponents to the abuse of alchemy by the Amestrian government. While also possibly being one of the few friends of the Ishvalan people that could be found in the Amestrian intellectual circles.

However, as Seneka sat at the tiny table of the couple he felt neither the benefit of the woman's intelligence nor the good will many people spoke about her possessing in agreat abundance. No all he felt as he sat on that tiny chair at the decently sized table was tense.

Not the good kind of tension that puts one on one's toes, but the bad kind that fills one's stomach with a sense of dead. Like when the odds are stacked against you or your at the total mercy of a person who you know nothing about and they can act as arbitrarily as they please. A feeling that Seneka had experienced many times in his homeland whilst living under the occupation of the Amestrian military, and needless to say it was a feeling he didn't like at all.

"So you'd just be staying here only for the season?" the woman asked, causing Seneka to realize that he was staring at the table and shift his gaze to the woman.

"Y-yes, of course" he answered, to which the woman nodded.

"And my husband has told you that the position was originally intended for a woman"

"Yes, but I am from a peasant family and am not afraid of hard work" Seneka answered as he looked at the unrelenting gaze of Vera and hurridly added.

"Besides I wouldn't stay long, just until the season's over and then my children and I can make our way to Central City to find more permanent lodgings and possibly employment". An answer that solicited a surprisingly hearty laugh from Vera and caused her husband to give his own friendly smile that caused Seneka to relax. After all it meant that his future chances of employment were no longer so bleak, even if it was only for a temporary period.

"I wouldn't dream of sending someone onto Central if they were alone, let alone guardian of three little children, no my friend we'll make sure to find you something to do in the winter months; consider yourself hired" and with that Vera stood and extended a hand towards Seneka. Prompting him to instinctually do like wise.

"Thanl you ma'am, thank you, I shan't dissapoint you" Seneka enthusiastically stated.

"That's good to hear, my dear Tristan informed me that you adnd your family were forced to live in the storage house so our first project will be to see if we can make it hospitable" Vera stated as she finished shaking Seneka's hand before adding.

"Now Tristan, let's have lunch" and with that the three adults in the room set not only themselves, but their whole nation on a new path.


	3. The Addition of Kerosene

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Fullmetal Alchemist, Avatar the Last Airbender, or Legend of Korra series. Please support the original creators. **

"Hey"=Speaking

'Hey'= Thinking

**"Hey"=Yelling**

_"Hey"=Flashback/ Speaking in a different language_

_Gender Swap Names  
Aang: Amora  
Sokka: Sokah  
Katara: Kotaro  
Korra: Kor  
Edward: Emilie  
Alphonse: Alexandra  
Winry: Wilhelm  
Trisha: Tristan  
Zuko: Zuna  
Azula: Ahon  
Toph: Torren  
Roy M: Rosalie Mustang  
Riza H: Richard Hawkey  
Maes H: Maxi Hughes  
King Bradley: Koila Barbosa  
Ozai: Onon_

Author's Note: Hello everybody sorry for the delay. I just wanted to let you all know that I intend to publish at least one chapter every month from now on, and trust the chapters will soon be getting longer. I hope that by doing this I can prevent the story line of the fic from getting all messed up due to rushed updates.

Thank you for electing to read this newest chapter and I hope you all enjoy.

Sincerely,

JackieRobinson

Chapter 2

Quote:"The people of Ishval have spent centuries on their knees, but do not dilude yourself into think that is where they desire to be or that they will stay there"

-Xing Royal Embassador to Amestris, 1900

It had only been a few months since Seneka and his three children had first arrived in Resembol and yet, it felt as though it had been year. After all so much had changed. The tiny shack that the Elrics had called the called the "storage house" a glorified shed that had seemed to be modified in order to allow the temporary lodging of one person had been completely transformed. With it now boasting two small beds, a small wood fire stove with a hole in the roof so that the smoke could escape and a small window added to the side. Making it so that, in addition to the original one at the front, there were now two windows on the tiny structure.

The sunny summer season that had greeted Seneka when he'd arrived with his children was now gone, along with the small harvest that had came with it. The once green trees first turning lovely shades of brown, gold, and red before beginng to fall off one by onto the humble patches of farm land the family owned. Although, when compared to the vast deserts of Ishval the small family farm was surrounded by what many Ishvalans would've labled vast tracks of ariable land.

However, the most significant change that had occured in that time could not be found in either the new home of Seneka and his children, nor in the land Seneka worked, but rather in the home of his employers.

"Are you felling well dear?" Tristan called, as he looked up from where he stood by the kitchen stove as he heard the sound of the house's front door close. Followed by the sound of hiccuping as he wathced his wife slowly make her way towards the kithcen table, each step being aided by Seneka.

"As well as I can at this stage" was Vera's response as she gingerly sat down a table, her action earning her a cup of warm tea.

"Well it should expected ma'am, the doctor did say that you were entering your second trimester" Seneka added as he received his own cup of tea, along with the pitter patter of feet racing across the wood floors of the house towards him. Followed by a distinct cry of.

"Daddy, you're home" as Kor, Sokah, and Kotaro each grabbed onto his right leg earning a smile from both Tristan and Vera. It had only taken a few days after Vera had returned back to the house that Seneka had made two major discoveries. First that couple had an adorable two year old tolder they'd named Emilie who had her mother's hair and her father's eyes, and second that Vera was nearly one month pregnant with a second child that would effectively end her travels for nearly a year.

_"It's so unfortunate that the only time you're ever here more than a few nights is when there's something that's physically stopping you from leaving" Tristan had initially said upon hearing the news before touching his wife's stomach and adding._

_"But the good news always makes it worth it"_

"How were things in town?" Tristan asked as he returned to the stove and returned to working on the stew she'd been brewing as Emilie hobbled past him.

"Good, according to the mayor most of the grain houses have been stocked and will be as ready for winter as ever, especially considering the town benefited as well as it did from this year's harvest" Vera answered, arriving just before raising her arms and stating.

"Up mommy,"

"Up what?" Tristan asked from the kitchen causing Emilie to tilt her head sideways before adding.

"Please" her addition of the word earning her what she requested as he mother leaned over and proceeded to pluck her from the ground and place her on her lap.

"Are you excited to be a big sister?" Vera asked, to which Emilie looked up into her mother's eyes with a certain curiosity only found in a child.

"Big sister?"

"Yes," Vera answered, before taking one of Emilie's hands and placing it on her stomach adding.

"Right here, you have a baby brother or a baby sister" she added, the the statement earning an unseen wince from Seneka. After all amongst the more traditional members of Ishvalan society the options would have been announced in reverse order, assuming that the option of a baby boy was announced at all. Luckily Seneka's wife, and in term his mother, had been not only been open but quite friendly to her sons when they were born. It was such a shame that she'd never lived to see them grow up.

"Daddy, you're crying" a voice said, as Seneka felt a tiny hand brush up against his face.

"Sorry, there was something in my eye" was all he could respond with before rising from the table and adding.

"I'll be going I need to wash up; Kor, Sokah, Kotaro, say goodbye" causing the trio of children to add their own goodbyes as Seneka guided them out of the house and back to their own humble abode. Where Seneka began the process of making their own supper.

"Daddy" Sokah asked, causing Seneka to briefly look away from the dish he had on the wood stove.

"What is it Sokah?"

"I really like the Elrics," she began, looking down at her feet as she did so.

"And I know they've been really nice to us," now she began to rub her hands, giving her the look of a person about to make a mighty request that was entirely unreasonable.

"But do you know when we'll get to see grandma and grandpa or Cleric Miriam again?" she finished, causing Seneka to be so taken aback that he felt himself become briefly disorientated.

'Where did this come from?' was the only thought that could come to his mind as he felt himself bend down, as though he was acting almost on instinct rather than any sort of feeling.

"Did I ask something bad?" Sokah asked as Seneka reached her height causing, a look of shame seeming to come over her face. As though she seemed to feel like she had by asking the question was a sort of cruel transgression against him, in act of disobedience that was course it made sense given what not only Seneka, but the Ishvalan community on the whole had taught her since she'd begun paying even the earliest visits to the clerics of their town. The heirarchy of society based on social duties and submission.

Children submitted to parents, husbands submitted to wives, men submitted to women upon a girl reaching the age of 16, the young submitted to the elderly, the paritioners submitted to their clerics, and they all submitted to Ishval and those placed above the community. With this delicate balance of submission being maintained only when those in submission were protected by those they submitted to. A contract that any sane person could easily say that the Amestrian government had violated constantly for nearly the past decade.

The epittamy of which was the reason that Seneka and his children now found themselves in Resembol, an epittamy that Seneka could remember fondly even now.

_It had been an average Ishvalan day. The temperature had not been hotter than usual, the air not drier, there was no overcast sky, no sandstorm had transpired the day before, nor had there had been no omen from the clerics te day before. The town had always been a safe place. A community where the rumored divisions between Ishvalans and non-Ishvalans that were rumored to so bitterly divide other towns and villages targeted didn't seem to exist, inspite of the heavy industrialization by the Amestrian government is recent years. _

_Everyone gave respect, and they were all respected by everybody else. Or at least they had until that day._

_"People of Chezib" the town's police captain, Katerine Reynov had called as she stood atop the tiny platform that lay in the town square._

_"I have here, a direct order from Fuhrer herself that is to be observed at once without any delay or hesitation". As she read these orders a small crowd of Ishvalans and "normal" Amestrians had gathered around, interested at the news. For all its supposed importance as a new railway town next to an agricultural hub Chezib had never been the focus of direct orders from Central City. Sure they'd receive the occaisional telegraph from East City warning about soldiers passing through on their way to the border with the United Bending Republics._

_ But never from the capitol itself and it seemed almost as though the captain was interested, over joyed even, at the prospect that she was to be the recipient of an order from the great Fuhrer. Which is why when, from his position in the front row, Seneka had found it to be so disturbing when the captain's initial smile, was replaced by a look of shock as she read the ensuing sentences of the order._

_"All Ishvalans in this town and the surrounding district are to sell their property and vacate their homes with each family only being able to carry one piece of lugage per family member. Anyone who does not board the trains that will arrive three days hence from this note reaching your town will be considered acting in opposition of the state and made subject...to...arrest". For a few seconds there was nothing but silence as the entirety of the crowd felt the news hit them like a punch to the stomach, causing all the air to be sucked out of the square._

_"You bastards!" someone in the crowd shouted, breaking the silence._

_"How could you do this?" another asked._

_"We've paid our taxes and followed your laws for years and this is how you treat us?"_

_"Cowards!"_

_"Snakes!"_

_"Amestrian cows!" the Ishvalans in the crowd began calling, while the other Amestrians spoke amongst each other in dismay.  
_

_"I bet you wrote to the Fuhrer to get her to clear us out, right Captain?" _

_"You can't do this, this is their home" One of the Amestrians called, in a display of common cause with their Ishvalan townfolk that caused an smaller shouts to come together into one united roar that spurred them into a single mass. A __mass of humanity that eventually united before moving forwards the platform, as if taking out their growing anger and pain on the captain and small squad of soldiers that stood with her there would solve their current problem. _

_Seemingly indicated by Cleric Miriam ascending the stairs with her husband and daughters in towe, in what looked a preparation to perform the long awaited overthrow of the Amestrian authorities that had held them down for so long. __Luckily, or some might claim unfortunately, cooler heads prevailed._

_"Please my children, please" she'd called when she reached the top of the platform, her voice somehow managing to silence the crowd inspite of its frailty. _

_"Captain Reynov has always been a friend to us and I do not believe that she would seek the Fuhrer out to harm us in such a way" she began, causing heads to turn and murmuring amongst the crowd._

_"If that's true then she wouldn't mind letting us to take her weapons to defend our homes, protect our neighbors, begin the creation of our second Renaissance" someone declared, causing the crowd to murmur in agreement as an Amestrian added._

_"I'd gladly lay down my life to protect these peoples' rights to be here". Most likely not knowing that the doctrinal line that the Ishvalan had referenced originally called for the expulsion and or excecution of all non-Ishvalans residing of Ishvalan soil. Of course, even most Ishvalans didn't know that the doctrine called for the revolt to go this far. After all, it hadn't proven popular amongst the Ishvalans of the 16th century and had been almost entirely spurned with a decade of its author's death._

_"Please, please, violence will not save us, it will only earn us the wrath of the Amestrian army and should that occur no one except Ishvala herself would be able to blunt the stroke the would be brought against us" Cleric Miriam had stated, causing the crowd to begin murmuring in mild frustration. It was then, almost on que, that a single child emerged from where Seneka had stood in the front of the crowd and asked a single question._

_"Daddy, where will we go? What will we do?" Kor had asked, causing Seneka to look down at a question that more or lessed summed up the feeling of betrayal the whole crowd ws feeling. While one young Ishvalan in particular proceeded to approach the platform, mounting several of the steps before stating._

_"Cleric, we have been faithfully praying and waiting for Ishvala all our lives, wouldn't it be nothing more than a miracle if she delivered us now" causing the whole crowd to fall silent and all the eyes, particularly the Ishvalan ones to turn and fall upon Cleric Miriam. Each one almost begging for her to say something, propose a plan, quote one of the Holy Books. Offer some sort of answer in her wisdom that would make the problem that was in front of them, and the challenges that would surely come from it dissapear._

_"Cleric Miriam we Amestrians can write to the Fuhrer on your behalf, tell her of what's really happening here and how much chaos would come from you being removed" someone from the front rows called, earning around of cheers that caused Cleric Miriam to raise her hands again._

_"To all of you Amerstrians here, I say thank you, your support stands as the ultimate testiment of your hearts and will be remembered by our people for generations, but the Fuhrer is far away and she has not been known to change her mind; I wish you to save your petitions as well as the ink & breath needed to write them, for we all know they shall be in vain," Cleric Miriam began before turning towards the Ishvalan woman on the steps and continued._

_"My child, although I do not know why, it seems as though we will simply have to pray to her somewhere else" walking down the steps of the platform as she did so until she was just one above the woman and finishing with._

_"Now, let's start packing" while placing a hand on either of her shoulders. If there was any hope of Chezib being the center of a revolt it died then and there as the Ishvalans in the crowd simply began to nod, before turning and going their separate ways. Beginning the task set upon them._

_"Daddy" Kotaro had called as the crowd dispered, causing Seneka's attention to turn towards his other son._

_"What is it Kotaro?"_

_"Daddy, I know we're supposed to go, but what about Cleric Miriam? She's so old, how will she make the trip?" his son had finished, with a naivite in his voice that caused Seneka to bend over and start tearing up while he clutched Kotaro in front of Kor and Sokah._

"Daddy, did I ask something bad?" Sokah asked again, causing Seneka to be torn from his thoughts and met with sight of a now crying Sokah.

"Oh no baby, daddy just remembered something important," he asnwered, before glancing up at the stove and adding.

"Dinner will be ready soon, so make sure to wash up". Unable to admit that even he had next to no idea as to where his mother and father had ended up, only hoping that they'd made it across the border to the Bending Republics and that if they had they were alive and well. It was all he could do right now.

* * *

It's easy to assume that with the onset of winter life in Resembol would come to a complete stop. Especially after seeing the abundance of snow that had arrived after only one night of the winter season, let alone after a week or a month of it. However, to do that would be underestimate the two things; the degree to which the town's inhabitance had adapted to the seasonal onset and the degree to which the national spirit of the Amestrian people burned. Both of which were displayed in the number of people walking on the town's streets and the number of propaganda ads in the newspapers.

Where each ad challenged every citizen to save as much as they could, so that the excess could be used by the less fortunate in their town or the less fortunate across the nation. While Seneka supported the idea of aiding others as much as one could and found a growing pride in the resolve he saw across Resembol, it was still dampened by the fact that it was that same national spirit the had cost his people their homeland.

"Daddy, daddy" a tender voice called as Seneka went about the laborous task of chopping up firewood, first for the Elrics and then for himself and his children. With the impaired aid of Vera, who found the task she claimed had once been easy far more difficult when carrying another human being.

"What is it Sokah?" he asked as his daughter ran towards him, her arm firmly clenthed around that of a one of her brother and the other firmly grasping a snowball.

"Look at what Kotaro made" she declared, shoving the rather healthily sized snow ball into Seneka's face. Especially when one realized that neither of his children were over the age of 6 yet, with Sokah being 5 while Kor and Kotaro had come together and were now 4.

"That's impressive Kotaro, where'd you get the snow for it" Seneka stated as he put downt he axe and took the snowball in both of his hands, making it look slightly bigger than it really way. Not expecting what he was about to hear.

"The ice"

"What?" he'd asked, upon hearing the brief two worrd response.

"The ice, I made it from the ice" Kotaro repeated, trying to reiterate his previous point but not making any more progress on making Seneka understand what he meant.

"Look" Sokah stated, suddently grabbing the snowball from Seneka and throwing it against the ground.

"Sokah, why would you do tha-" Seneka began chistising his daughter for being so malicious only to fall silent as Kotaro entender his hands over the destroyed snowball and began moving it. Not in large chunks, but rather in the smallest pieces that were about the length of a pinkie nail, gathering them together before polishing them off into a snowball that was only slightly smaller than it had been before. Then handing it to Sokah who inter raised it to Seneka once again.

"See, I made it from ice" Kotaro stated again, a smile appearing on his face as the lights began to finally turn on in Seneka's head.

'My son is, or could be, a waterbender, the first from our town in a century, the first in our family ever'.

"Seneka. is something wrong?" Vera called as she exited the house.

"No, no, I just found out something important today" Seneka answered, before mentally adding.

'Something that will change everything'.


End file.
